


Burnt Cakes

by unwillingadventurer



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 03:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12521700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwillingadventurer/pseuds/unwillingadventurer
Summary: Never trust the Doctor, Steven and Vicki with the baking!





	Burnt Cakes

Vicki helped the peasant woman carry some pots and pans into the small cooking area.

“We’re really grateful you’re letting us stay here a couple of days,” Vicki told her. 

The woman smiled but rarely spoke and it was clear to Vicki that the woman was simply happy to earn some provisions from the Doctor for letting them lodge in her already cramped home. The woman had run into the TARDIS team two days earlier when the TARDIS had landed in a swamp and they’d been forced to wade through thick sludgy moss and mud in order to get to any kind of firm ground where she was waiting for them with many questions as to why they were there in such a dangerous location. The Doctor had made up a story of Steven being a tired Saxon warrior who needed rest. 

Whilst Vicki prepared some vegetables, the Doctor and Steven were outside collecting firewood. Being back in the time period of the 800’s wasn’t exactly Vicki’s idea of a luxury holiday and the threat of a Viking attack was becoming somewhat of a tradition for her and her friends, however she tried not to get herself fed up about the situation and was determined to help as best as she could until they could get back to the TARDIS and manoeuvre the ship out of the swamp. 

When the Doctor and Steven came into the house moments later, Steven was hopping on one foot and yelping in pain. Vicki, hearing the wailing, emerged from the cooking area to find her friend sitting on the floor, rubbing his foot. 

“What happened?” Vicki asked.

“The Doctor tried to lift one too many pieces of wood,” Steven said. “In which case, the result was one too many landing on my foot.”

“Actually dear boy, it was merely your foot that was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Vicki let out a cackle as Steven glared at the Doctor. 

“Doctor, this is serious,” he said. “I think I might have broken my foot or something.”

The Doctor sighed with exasperation. “My dear young man, you do go on. It’s probably nothing but a mere sprained ankle. Dear me it’s a good job the Saxons aren’t really recruiting you for their army against the Vikings if you can’t even handle a small injury.”

Steven folded his arms in protest. “Doctor, I’m quite capable, but I bet the Saxons didn’t have to contend with their friends dropping logs on them!”

“Dear boy…”

The Doctor was cut off by a loud whistling noise coming from Vicki. “Oh for god’s sake, what does it matter who dropped what? At least you get to chop firewood! I’m stuck slaving away over a flame like an ancient housewife.”

Steven grinned and looked up at her. “Don’t suppose you have time to rub my foot?” He waved his bare foot in her direction, wriggling his toes rapidly. 

“No I don’t! There’s the cakes to finish and then there’s all the vegetables and the meat and…get your feet away from me its unhygienic.”

Steven spluttered in disbelief. “Unhygienic? There’s miles and miles of animal dung right out that door, and god knows what crawling in the kitchen and you’re moaning at my feet?”

The Doctor raised his hands to stop their squabble. “Now, now, there’s no need for this argument, I realise things are trying but we must only do this another day or so, and it’s unlikely we should come across any serious trouble until then. It’ll just be a lonely peasant woman and the three of us, nothing else.”

But as he said it, there was a hammering at the side of the house. All three faces turned to look at the exact same time. Vicki shuddered. “You don’t think it’s a horde of pillaging Vikings do you?”

“Maybe they’ll have superior feet,” Steven muttered. 

The Doctor shushed them and made his way to the opening, carefully peering outside. “Show yourself,” he said with an air of authority.

A bearded and grubby man stepped into the doorway and shoved past him. “I need shelter and I need food. I have been walking for days.”

The Doctor could see the man was worse for wear and certainly not a Viking as they had feared. He invited him inside and showed him the fire. “Vicki, go and inform our landlady that we have a new guest, one we cannot possibly turn away. He is in need of charity.”

Vicki nodded and headed into the cooking area to inform the peasant woman of the man’s arrival. She had a sinking feeling however that the woman would not be best pleased with yet another weary lodger. 

The man made himself comfortable by the fire, holding his hands near to the flame to warm his chilled fingers. He looked down at some uncooked cakes on a grate and licked his lips as they cooked by the fire. “Those will be delicious when they are done,” he let out quietly and the Doctor nodded in agreement. 

“They’re cooking nicely,” the Doctor said as his stomach rumbled just thinking of food. In the last days their meals had been sparse and unappetising. 

When Vicki and the woman re-emerged from the cooking area, the woman was wearing a cloak ready to go outside. “She won’t be long,” Vicki told her friends. “She needs more supplies.”

The woman barely acknowledged the new guest, even ignoring Steven as he got up and limped toward the door to ask if she needed any help. She walked into the afternoon air, muttering under her breath about inconvenience and being put upon by too many people. Steven wondered if she went out simply to get away from all the voices. She was clearly not a social person.

“She wants us to keep an eye on things here,” Vicki said. “Make sure the cakes don’t get overdone.”

Steven sighed. “Shame we haven’t got an oven timer. Just how did they know when things were done in this day and age?”

“With common sense, dear boy. I realise by your time such senses have been eradicated somewhat but it’s never too late to learn the ways of rudimentary living.”

The bearded man at the fireside stared at the travellers with confused eyes. “Who are you people and what strange words do you speak?” 

There was a moment of silence as the team looked at each other, yet again unsure of how to explain themselves. The Doctor put his hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Never mind, dear fellow, simple stories, entertainments for my family here- nothing for you to concern yourself with.”

The man seemed unconvinced by their peculiar behaviour but decided to leave the strange trio to their secrets. He had many things to worry about and as he stared at the flickering flames he became lost in his own thoughts, not saying anything for several minutes, until finally settling on a stool at the window and closing his tired eyes. 

“So what should we do now?” Vicki said, folding her arms, already feeling the boredom of a ‘pre-anything interesting to do’ era. 

The Doctor and Steven both shrugged and looked vacantly around the room. The last few days had certainly been a little tedious and Steven couldn’t believe he was actually missing the opportunity of an element of danger. Not that he was hoping for a Viking attack, but anything more interesting than watching some cakes slowly cook.

Vicki suggested they play charades and Steven reluctantly agreed to give the old game a try. He’d never been fond of playing games, but really what was the alternative, mucking out the barns where the animals were kept? 

“I’ll start.” Vicki got into position enthusiastically but before she’d even got ready to do her first charade, the Doctor had fallen asleep at his chair by the table and he was gently snoring within moments just like their other guest, the unknown stranger. 

Steven laughed. “Well that’s one way of telling us he doesn’t want to play!”

“Fine, it’s just you and me then,” Vicki said, but she soon gave up when she looked down at the floor and realised that Steven too had his head rested in his hands and looked as though he was going to fall asleep at any moment…

…

Vicki had admitted defeat and was also lying down on the floor when she was startled by the sound of something entering through the doorway, though she couldn’t see what it was. She sat up to investigate and smiled as she saw a small white goat traipsing through the room as though it lived there, nonchalantly eating bits and pieces of food off the floor. She laughed as the goat casually trotted over to Steven lying peacefully on the floor on a sack. It sniffed him and then began to nibble him gently on the ear, mistaking him for more food. Vicki giggled as Steven shuffled in his sleep.

“That feels good, Alex,” he muttered with his eyes closed, moving his neck slightly as if it tickled. “Not now. We have duty shift at six.”

Vicki held the back of her hand up to her mouth to stop her giggles but as Steven’s nose began to sniff the air, he realised he could smell something rather unpleasant beside him and he woke up with a start. He jumped over to his right as soon as he saw the goat looking at him with big eyes and he let out a shriek.

“What’s that thing doing next to me?”

Vicki smirked, and shuffled closer to her friend as he stood up and dusted himself off. “I’m sorry he couldn’t be a substitute for Alex. I suspect whoever she…or he is was a very good nibbler!”

Steven’s cheeks flushed. What exactly had he been saying in his sleep? “That’s none of your business! And anyway, you haven’t answered my question, what’s this thing doing in here?” 

Vicki started to stroke the goat and coo at it. “Oh he’s probably just hungry, poor thing. There’s no reason to shout at Billy.”

Steven’s eyebrow rose. “Billy?”

“Billy goat.”

“I got it, thanks. More curious as to why you feel the need to name everything.”

“Says the man with a panda bear soft toy called Hi-fi.”

“Hi-fi was a mascot not a smelly old goat.”

Vicki laughed and proceeded to tease him about his dream and the identity of the mysterious Alex. It was only when their voices got louder, that the Doctor finally woke and told them to be quiet. As he raised his voice to their level, he was interrupted by the sound of a goat bleating. He did a double-take.

“That’s a goat,” he said.

“Yes, Billy.”

The Doctor scoffed, about to scold her for naming yet another animal when he suddenly caught the whiff of a different kind of aroma. “Can you smell burning?”

Vicki and Steven’s heads turned at the same time, sniffing around to get a clue as to what was on fire. Vicki’s eyes suddenly widened in horror. “The cakes!”

The three travellers ran over to the tray the cakes were cooking on and looked down at the now blackened pile of near ash, and the smoke billowing all around them. 

“Well they’re cremated,” Steven said. “Guess pudding’s off.”

“But she trusted us,” Vicki said, feeling rather sorry for the peasant woman. In the last couple of days she’d come to learn how hard it was for women in the past.

“What do we do now?” Steven asked.

The Doctor thought for a moment and then as he saw the strange man waking up from his slumber, he gently edged towards the doorway, beckoning his friends to join him. It was at that moment that the peasant woman entered the room and saw what had happened. 

“What have you done?” she bellowed as she looked at the ruined cakes.

“It was him!” the Doctor said, pointing at the strange bearded man who was still rubbing his tired eyes.

The man stood up in protest, unsure of what he was even being accused of, but before he had time to argue, the three travellers and the goat ran for the door and raced outside, sprinting until they couldn’t be followed. As they left they could hear the woman shouting at the man for ruining her cakes.

“Oops,” Vicki said breathlessly. “We really got him in trouble, didn’t we? She looks like she might bake him next, she was so angry!”

The Doctor chuckled, and looked back at the way they had come. “You know I have a sneaky suspicion that man was no ordinary man.”

“What do you mean?” Steven asked.

The Doctor let out a series of loud chuckles. “I believe that man was Alfred the Great, the once Saxon king of Wessex. There was a story you know, a folk-lore if you will that says Alfred burnt the cakes of a peasant woman.”

Steven and Vicki glanced at each other and laughed.

“You mean that folk-lore story blamed Alfred all this time and it was actually our fault?” Steven said.

“Possibly, possibly, we shall never know for certain.”

Vicki scooped the goat into her arms as they made their way to the swamp to retrieve the TARDIS.

Steven turned his nose up at the sight. “Doctor, she can’t keep that thing can she?”

Vicki kissed the goat on the head. “But we can’t leave him here, he’ll be dinner! Besides I’ve thought of a new name for him.”

“A new one?” Steven’s voice rose higher in pitch.

“Alfred the goat!”

They all laughed and started to wade through the thick sludgy swamp until they were submerged to their middles.

“Just one thing, Doctor,” Steven said, looking around. “How are we going to get into the TARDIS, the doors are most likely wedged shut?”

The Doctor looked up and his eyes narrowed with apprehension. “That’s not our only problem, my boy; we are not the only ones here.”

Steven and Vicki looked around them to where a group of Saxon warriors stood around the swamp, staring at the TARDIS in awe. There was a bleat from the goat as the Saxons noticed them.

“And plan B is?” Steven gulped.

“Don’t worry my boy- we shall get out of this. When have I ever let you down before?”


End file.
